Forever My Love: A Christian Romance (The McKinleys Book 2) Page 3
Lucas shrugged. “So tell them.”
“Oh, I will, and then I’ll show them.” That glint was back in her eyes.
“Show them?”
“Yep. You, Mr. Uncle, are going to be my date at my brother’s wedding.”
Considering the side of the conversation he’d heard, Lucas wasn’t entirely surprised by this turn of events. He knew she expected him to object. “Sure. That sounds like fun.”
Brooke’s mouth once again dropped open. She finally said, “Fun? You think that sounds like fun?”
Lucas shrugged. “Sure. It’s not my wedding. And I have no trouble getting dressed up. I do it every day. Toss in time with my nephew, a chance to get to know his family, and a beautiful date. I’d be foolish to turn it down.”
She glared at him even as a flush of pink swept up her cheeks. Snatching the basket from the counter, she said, “I’ll be back.”
Lucas spun on his seat to watch her marching toward the front door. It squeaked as it opened and then slammed shut behind her. He hoped she hadn’t grabbed a set of keys as she left or he might be finding a nice long scratch down the side of his Lexus LX parked in front of her house.
He had to admit that he was beginning to see what might have drawn Linc to this woman. There was likely never a dull moment when she was around.
“You looking for something, dear?” Mrs. Davis asked.
Brooke glanced away from the large window in Mrs. Davis’s living room that looked out on their neighborhood. Or more precisely, the house right across the street which happened to be hers. “No, just keeping an eye on the house.”
“Do you have company? I noticed that car parked in front of your place. As my grandson would say, it’s a fine set of wheels.”
Brooke had noticed it was indeed a fine set of wheels as she’d walked—stomped—passed it on her way over with the muffins. It had probably cost the guy more than the average person made in two or three years. No wonder eighty dollars was nothing to the man. She wasn’t used to that kind of thinking.
“Danny not around?”
“He went to the Mall of America with his buddy. But he’s the one who made the muffins. He was supposed to come with me to give them to you, but I’m afraid we both took second place to terrifying rides and too much junk food.”
Mrs. Davis chuckled. “I remember those days. I seemed to come in second place to a lot of stuff at that age. Thankfully, they usually get their priorities straight.”
Brooke knew that Mrs. Davis’s sons took good care of her. It was one of the reasons she was still able to live on her own even though she was well into her eighties. Unfortunately, the older woman had tried to fix her up with a couple of her grandsons who weren’t nearly as responsible as their fathers.
She touched the pocket of her shorts and then the other one. Rats, she’d left her phone on the counter. The man had her more rattled than she wanted to admit. Glancing at the clock on the fireplace mantle, Brooke figured she’d been there for about fifteen minutes now. Was he ever going to leave?
“Well, he’s a fine specimen,” Mrs. Davis commented.
Brooke’s gaze shot to the window. Sure enough, Lucas Hamilton had exited her house and was now standing beside the driver’s door of his luxurious wheels. He had his hands on his hips, looking around the neighborhood. She was confident he didn’t know which house she was in, plus Mrs. Davis had made sure her curtains allowed her to observe without being observed.
“Do you need to go speak with him, my dear?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat. “He looks like he might be looking for you.”
“I’ll catch up with him later.”
“You don’t want to let one that looks like that get away, dearie.”
Brooke sighed in relief as he got into the car and pulled away from her house. “There’s more to a man than his appearance.” She’d been taken in by this particular set of looks—well, a slightly different version—before, and she wasn’t keen to repeat that mistake.
She stayed to visit with Mrs. Davis for another fifteen minutes before returning home. And even though she was reluctant to leave the air-conditioned coolness of the older woman’s house, she was eager to get back to her own place.
Once home, she let out a long breath as she walked through the house to the kitchen. She spotted her phone sitting on top of a piece of paper on the counter. The thought of him looking through her things to find something to write on gave her a funny feeling. She slid the paper from underneath her phone.
Now was that any way to treat a guest? Running off on me? Thanks for the muffin, by the way. It was so good, I helped myself to another. I figured you owed me that much for making me wait around for nothing. Since you weren’t here for me to give you my contact information, I put it in your phone under “Mr. Uncle”. Call me—or text if you prefer—with the details of our date. Would love to hear from Danny as well.
Brooke snatched up her phone and tapped the screen to get to her contacts. Sure enough, not only had Lucas added his info, but he’d also taken a picture to go with it. She found herself laughing as she looked at the photo. Arched brow, wide eyes and duck lips. The ultimate selfie. Sinking down on the stool he’d been sitting on when she’d left, Brooke realized it had been quite some time since a man had made her smile—let alone laugh. He’d certainly run her emotions all over the place since he’d shown up on her porch such a short time ago.
She was going to have to be extra careful around this man. He had the potential to be a complication she didn’t need or want.
Lucas hit the button on the remote and waited until the door was up to guide his car down the sloped driveway to the garage. He turned off the ignition and stepped from the coolness of the car. Though warm, the room was still cooler than Brooke’s had been. After making sure the door was closed, he took the stairs two at a time to the main floor of the house. The kitchen area was empty, so he wandered into the living room.
“He was a loser, Mom. I don’t care how cute you think the guy was. He was boring and all he wanted to do was talk about himself. It was like he was a personal salesman where his product was himself. So very unattractive.”
Lucas grinned as he walked toward where his mom and sister sat in the living room. His mom was sitting very properly in her chair, but Lindsay, wearing shorts and a ratty old T-shirt, sat sideways on the couch, her bare feet planted on the cushion.
“Darling! Where did you disappear to?”
Lucas went to press a kiss to his mom’s cheek before settling into the chair next to her.
“How are you not dying from the heat dressed like that?” Lindsay asked.
“I had a meeting.” He’d debated all the way back to the house how much he should share with them.
“A meeting?” Lindsay asked. “Dressed like that?”
“Wasn’t a business meeting. It was a personal one.”
“Personal? That sounds more interesting. Who with?”
“What if I said it was none of your business?” Lucas tossed at her.
Lindsay grinned. “I’d say tell us anyway. You know I can get it out of you one way or another.”
She’d learned young that she could get physical with her older—and bigger—brothers but that they couldn’t retaliate. That had meant they’d endured everything from pinching and punching to tickling. Lincoln had gone after her a couple of times, but she knew that Lucas wouldn’t. So she was right. He would tell her just to protect himself from whatever sort of torture she decided to hand him.
“I went to see Brooke McKinley.” Satisfied that he’d managed to make two of the more talkative women he’d ever known go silent, Lucas leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him.
Lindsay swung her feet off the couch and turned to face him directly. “And? You’re not allowed to drop a bomb like that and say nothing more. What’s he like?”
If it had just been Lindsay, he probably would have dragged it out, but for his mom’s sake, he knew he couldn’t d
elay answering. “He’s an interesting mix. He looks a lot like Linc although his hair is a little bit lighter. He wears it long and it curls like Linc’s. He likes to ride his bike but after hurting his arm on his skateboard last year has avoided that ever since.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen to get to his pictures. When it had become apparent that his hostess wasn’t going to return, Lucas had taken the opportunity to look around a little bit. He’d found photos of Danny on the wall in the living room and had used his phone’s camera to take pictures of them. Not the best quality but at least they would give his mom an idea of what he looked like.
He handed the phone to her. “There are five there.”
Lindsay scrambled off the couch and dropped to her knees beside her mom. “Oh my word! He looks just like Linc.”
Lucas watched as his mom silently swiped through the pictures. He knew it would be hard to look at them at first, but he hoped that it would also be healing for her to have a link to her son.
When she finally looked up, her eyes glistened with tears. “He’s beautiful. When can we meet him?”
“I’m not sure. Today went pretty good, but his mom is concerned about him. She told him all about Lincoln.”
Lindsay wrinkled her nose. “So does he hate Lincoln for not being there for him?”
“Not at all. In fact, when she told him that Linc had…passed away, he started crying.” Lucas sat forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “His mom is an interesting woman. She kinda reminds me a bit of you, Linds.”
His sister gave him a skeptical look. “I’m sure that thrilled you.”
“She doesn’t hold back much, but she’s also created a very…soothing and safe environment for Danny. When I got there, they were making blueberry muffins together. It seems she’s always encouraged him to ask any questions he had about his father. And she told him to ask me about Lincoln, too.”
His mother looked back down at the phone in her hand. “What did he ask you?”
“He wanted to know what Lincoln had been like when he was his age.”
Lindsay sat down on the floor, drawing her knees up to wrap her arms around them. “Well, you’d be the best person to know that. So, did he want to know about us, too?”
“He and his mom had no idea about any of us. In the months Brooke and Lincoln were together, apparently he never told her anything about his family. From her comments about it, it sounds like she didn’t share about hers either.”
“So you don’t think she’ll oppose us wanting to meet him? Getting to know him?” his mom asked.
“No, I don’t think she will. But she’s very much a woman in charge of her own life. It will have to be on her terms. I think if we show that we’re willing to let her take the lead on this, she’ll not make it difficult.”
“Does she not realize how difficult we could make her life?” Lindsay demanded.
Lucas sighed. “Linds, she owes us absolutely nothing. She tried to let Lincoln know about his son and he didn’t step up. She’s raised that boy on her own and has done a great job of it from what I was able to see.” He gave her a hard look. “You will not make this difficult for her. The most important person in all of this is Danny, and I think his mom is the best one to determine how this will work for him. She hasn’t painted Lincoln in a bad way to Danny, which—given how he treated her—she had every right to do. On that alone, we need to give her what she wants.”
Lindsay scowled at him, but when she said nothing, Lucas knew she’d gotten his point.
“She has my information, so even though I know it will be hard, we just need to wait until she contacts us. If I don’t hear from her in a few days, I’ll give her a call.”
“And what if she’s taken off with Danny by then?” Lindsay asked.
“She’s not going to do that.”
She tilted her head. “You seem very confident about trusting this woman you only spent such a short time with.”
“I can read people. You know that. She has a made a home for herself and Danny. A sudden move like that would upset him, especially now that he’s met me. It seems to me she puts Danny’s needs above hers and while she might not want us in his life, I think she knows it’s important to him. You’d react just like she did, Lindsay.”
“Well, I doubt that since I’m never going to have kids.”
“Lindsay,” his mother admonished her. “Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true. I’ve always said you wouldn’t be getting grandchildren from me.”
“Lincoln always said that too, but I’m very glad that things turned out differently,” his mom said. “Maybe it will be the same for you.”
“If someone contacts me to let me know they’re pregnant with my child, we’ll have a problem on our hands.”
Lucas couldn’t help laughing.
“You two,” his mom said, her affection for them clear in her gentle smile.
He was glad to see something take the sorrow from her face, even if it was for just a few seconds. “Well, I’m going to go change into something more comfortable. Maybe go for a swim.”
“I might join you,” Lindsay said as she pushed herself to her feet.
Lucas climbed the stairs to the second floor and the room that had been his until he’d turned twenty-one and moved out. It had once again become his for the past four months. Ever since news had come about Lincoln, his cleaning lady had probably spent more time at his place than he had.
As he passed the closed door that led to Lincoln’s room, Lucas paused. Something he’d seen at Brooke’s house had triggered a memory. He gripped the doorknob and turned it. The dark, mustiness of the room told him that his mom was still not allowing the staff to clean in this room. He reached out and flicked on the light, blinking as the room was flooded with brightness.
He stood for a moment taking in the state of the room. The staff had been cleaning it regularly up until the news of his disappearance, so it wasn’t messy. But what Lucas was most interested in were the paintings on the wall. He stood in front of one, staring at it. The painting—done in rich, vibrant colors—was of a waterfall. The perspective was looking down over the top of it as if the painter was getting ready to jump. He had always figured that was what appealed to Lincoln. No doubt his brother had jumped off his share of cliffs. But now Lucas wondered if it was something else.
CHAPTER FOUR
LUCAS’S gaze dropped to the right-hand corner of the painting as he pulled his phone out. He quickly found the picture he was looking for. Dropping to his knees, Lucas held his phone up next to the piece of art. Sure enough, the signatures matched.
BLK
Lucas straightened. He was fairly certain that Brooke hadn’t given this painting to his brother. He glanced at the other two that hung on the other walls. Their styles were similar to the one he’d just checked. He walked to the side of the large bed and leaned over to look at the one over the headboard. That one had the back of a young boy with dark brown curls in the lower right corner looking from the edge of a cliff toward where another figure—a man—flew with wings out over a stormy ocean.
He’d seen the painting before and had always assumed that Lincoln had been drawn to the figure flying free. Now Lucas realized that Lincoln was the figure flying. And the boy watching him was Danny. Brooke had perfectly captured the relationship between her son and his father.
It was a poignant painting. Reminiscent of the story of Icarus he’d read in high school. Only this time it was the son watching the father fly…higher and higher. And just like Icarus, Lincoln had crashed into the water below.
Lucas turned from the painting and sat down on the edge of the bed. He was fairly certain if he looked more into Lincoln’s possessions he’d find more paintings. He wondered how Brooke would react to the news that Lincoln had been the one buying her art. Clearly, in the only way he knew how, Lincoln had been taking care of his boy through the purchases of his mother’s paintings.
“Ah, Linc. Why couldn’t you have been happy with a life here?” Lucas braced his hands on the bed and bent his head as pain pierced his heart.
Though they’d had different outlooks on life and different ways of finding fulfillment, they had still been brothers. Twin brothers. Worst of all was the knowledge that he was fairly certain that Lincoln had never made things right in his spiritual life. Whenever he’d tried to talk to him about God and having a personal relationship with Him, Lincoln had brushed it aside. Now he’d have to live with the regret that he hadn’t tried harder.
“Luc?”
Taking a deep shuddering breath, Lucas looked over to see Lindsay standing in the doorway. Without saying anything more, she walked over and sat down on the bed next to him. She slid her hand along his arm and linked her fingers with his. Letting out a long sigh, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
They sat in silence for several minutes. Lindsay wasn’t very visible with her grief, but Lucas knew she felt Lincoln’s loss as keenly as he did. Now it was just the two of them when it had always been three. Their triangle had become a straight line. He had always figured that this would be how Lincoln’s life would end given the way he lived it, but it didn’t make the reality any easier.
Lucas pointed at the painting above the bed. “Brooke painted that and the other two in here.”
He felt Lindsay straighten beside him. “What? These paintings?”
“Yes. When I was at her house, I saw a painting on her wall that looked familiar in its style. I took a picture of the signature and compared it to the one over there and it’s a match.”
Lindsay moved away from him, crawling on the bed toward the one he’d been looking at. Going up on her knees, she braced her hands on the wall and stared at the painting. After a few seconds, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Probably. If you’re thinking it’s her interpretation of Danny’s relationship with Lincoln.”